Moments in History
by livyroro
Summary: A series of romantic one-shots depicting Tris and Tobias in different moments of history.


Athens, Greece, 479 B.C.

"Six!"

Tris cringed at the usage of her household name-her master renamed her when she was brought into his service, because she was the sixth slave he had acquired-but hurried down the hallway and into the main room, where her mistress was currently standing, hands on her hips.

Upon hearing Tris's bare feet slap on the tiled floors, she turned to the doorway, and trilled, "I need you to go to the Agora and pick up more oil. Oh, and while you're there, why don't you pick out a new vase for the kitchen? Seven broke it yesterday."

Tris nodded and stepped forward to take the bag of coins from her mistress. Quickly, she weaved through the remaining hallways and stepped out into the bright morning light. The din of the city could be heard even from here, the edge of the urban area.

The coins attached to her waist clinked with each step she took and rattled when she took her hair out of its bothersome bun. When she was out on the city, she was free. Until she had to inevitably return to her master, that is.

As soon as the shadow of the first of the temples fell on the cobbled street, Tris could sense a difference in the city's aura. Athens was always a lively place-full to the brim with culture-but today, it seemed just a bit more full than usual.

 _Everybody_ was out on the streets. It was a woman's place to stay inside-unless you were a slave, and for this one fact Tris was grateful of her position-and tend to the household. Well, Tris wasn't sure how all the households were being tended to because it seemed to her that everybody and their wives were roaming around this morning.

And they were all talking to one another. Tris saw Apostolos' wife talking to Palamara's wife, which was quite odd because just a month ago the two families had a massive feud over the borders of their neighboring farms. Tris overheard a portion of their conversation as they slowly walked past her on the other side of the street. Both women were leaning in to each other, as if they were gossiping like schoolchildren.

"Is it true? They've really done it?" Apostolos asked, in a hushed whisper.

"Well, with a little help from Sparta, but yes-" Palamara ceded.

Apostolos clapped her hands together. The sound echoed around, but nobody stopped to look for the source, like they would have on any other day. "Oh, I can't believe it! Well, I can, but it's so overwhelming! Aegeus will be home, at last!"

Palamara frowned. "Don't forget about Taavi, he fought too! And better than Aegeus, I dare say."

The two women faded out as Tris got closer to the Agora, and without anyone she knew to eavesdrop on, she turned into her thoughts.

The ladies must have been talking about the outcome of the battle at Plataea-and by the sound of it, Greece had won. Of course, Tris would never rank Palamara and Apostolos high on her list of credible sources, but considering everybody else was talking about it too, she had reason to believe their word was true.

Her stomach fluttered when she connected her next thought. And if the battle is over, that meant that Tobias would be returning soon. She could only hope that he'd made it out alive.

For the rest of her time in the city and marketplace she was distracted, but she managed to buy the correct oil for her mistress and pick up a vase she thought would do well on the kitchen counter.

When she got to the outskirts of Athens, Tris discovered that the excitement of the city had spread outward. Her neighbors' children were playing and dancing in the streets while her neighbors congregated in one of the small squares in the area.

Her mistress's home wasn't immune to the buzz, either. Upon returning, Tris gave the oil, vase, and remaining coins to her mistress only to be sent out to the Agora again with a bigger coin pouch. They were to have a feast that night-her mistress, Tobias's mother, had gotten word that his trireme would be returning that night and so festivities must be in place for her son's victorious homecoming.

Tris's bare feet were hot and aching by the time she returned home for the second time, carrying basket in her arms that overflowed with cheese, bread, olives, freshly caught fish, bountiful fruit, three bottles of fine wine and a large case of honeycakes. As soon as she stepped under the painted fresco in the doorway, the basket was taken out of her arms and she was ushered into the kitchen to prepare.

The sun was low in the sky when the feast was finished and laid out beautifully on the long dining table. Tris wore her best white tunic, which came down to just above her knees and tied at the middle with a braided rope.

She was in her designated position-stowed away in a corner with a bottle of wine ready to pour when someone asked for more. Three, Seven, and Eight were in the other corners, baring bread, cheese, and honeycakes, respectively.

Everyone in the home was anxiously awaiting Tobias's return. Tris watched the sunset anxiously through the window next to her, feeling like she needed to move but was rooted to the spot.

Tris heard the front door open and only had a moment to swallow her nerves before he was _there_. His hair had grown and was curlier than he usually let it get, and he had a small beard that he typically liked to shave. There was a small gash above his right eye, but other than that he wasn't harmed.

However, the war had changed him-in good ways. Tobias had always been strong, well built-but now he was a godly vision. Somehow he grew taller while he was away, but he gained some muscle mass that kept his appearance mostly the same, if not a bit bulkier, whereas in the past he could sometimes lean towards lanky.

Tris watched in a daze as he hugged his mother and father, and the three of them sat down at the table. They were joined by their cousins, who lived on the other side of town, and Tobias's two brothers, Hagan and Octavius, who had just returned from work in the city.

Her heart sank lower and lower as he didn't look at her, until finally it dropped out altogether when the feast started and he hadn't even given her a glance. She knew she was in a dark corner, but she thought he'd at least look for her.

So she held back her tears in stillness for half of the meal, until Tobias's father called for wine. Taking a deep breath, Tris stepped out of the darkness and into the candle-lit area surrounding the table. Finally, she could feel his eyes on her as she passed his chair to pour wine into his father's glass, which was at the head of the other side of the table.

Her hands shook as she poured, and no matter how many times she told herself she wouldn't look at him, that he didn't care and she would only get hurt. She looked anyway.

His eyes were so blue.

He didn't smile, only looked at her with a stoic expression. She should have known he wouldn't care for her when he returned; after all, it had been over a year ago when he left and he'd probably seen so many women who made him forget about the childlike servant he once knew at home.

She tore her eyes away from his, managed not to spill any wine, and looked at the floor as she retreated to her corner.

And the rest of the dinner went much like that: A family member (not Tobias) would call for wine, Tris would serve it while Tobias placidly watched, and she would have to will herself not to cry and get back to her corner safely. Only when she was in the shadows did she let the tears fall, and even then she reprimanded herself for ever being so foolish.

When the food was almost all gone, spare a few pieces of bread and a honeycake, Tobias's uncle spoke up for the first time. "Son, why don't you regale us a story of your adventures!"

Tobias's cousins nodded eagerly. "Did you see any hotties out in Plataea?"

At this moment, Tobias's mother, who had been talking to the neighbors outside for a moment, stepped back in. "What's this? Did you meet a girl, Tobias?"

Tobias almost blushed-it was hard for Tris to see in the candlelight-but immediately disputed all claims of him finding love during his journey, despite his family's repeated tries. Tris, however, felt her heart break open even more because that look on his face said it all: there was someone else. And she should have expected that he'd meet a goddess while he was away, but she was naive enough to think he'd really go through all of the trouble to have her, a skinny slave for his family.

Tris's feelings made her nauseous, and she thought she would actually be sick if the dinner wasn't over soon. Thankfully, Tobias's mother noticed that he seemed tired, and after much hugging of promises of having a longer gathering tomorrow, his cousins were ushered out the door and his brothers returned to their homes.

Tris cleaned up the table with the other slaves, while Tobias's mother watched over them all. When she finished, she was going to go to her room to sleep away her sorrows but her mistress called out, "Six? Go up to Tobias's room and see if he needs anything. Make sure his fire's warm and that he's got his clean sheets and glass of water."

Sometimes Tris thought that Tobias's mother made her go wait on him so often just to make her feel bad, but she knew that her and Tobias had done a good job of concealing what had changed in their relationship a year ago.

So she went upstairs without a word, and although she practically ran up the stairs wanting to get it over with quickly, she found herself standing in front of his door for at least five minutes, just staring at it, until she could get up the nerve to knock.

Tris knocked once, twice. He came to the door, and she had a hard time standing up.

She'd loved, a year ago, how much _taller_ than her he was. So powerful, _so handsome._ He was wearing only a robe, loosely tied around his firm middle, which was staring Tris right in the face. _Don't look at the abs, don't look at the abs._

She failed.

And realized that she hadn't even said anything to him, just awkwardly stared straight ahead so she cleared her throat and met his gaze hesitantly. "Your mother wanted me to make sure you were all set. You know, with your fire and water and sheets."

He, too, cleared his throat, looked down at his feet, and then looked up only a little bit to look Tris in the eye. She almost melted under his firing smolder, and put a hand on the doorframe to cover her stumble.

"I . . .," Tobias started, then paused, looking like he wanted to say something. He decided against it. "My fire's good and I have water but I'd like my sheets changed, if that's okay. I think they're the same from when I left."

Tris gulped; she wasn't expecting to actually have to go in his room. She sucked up her feelings and marched right in past him, determined to change his stupid bed as quickly as possible. But she was assaulted by her memories as soon as she walked in the door: Tobias by the fireplace, telling stories. Her, lying on top of him, by the fireplace, and then them both together on his bed.

She felt annoyingly aroused-both because of her memories of him in the room, and actually seeing him again but not getting to touch him. She kept reminding herself that there was nothing between them but it wasn't working, it wasn't working because she still felt so much when she looked at him.

Moving to get the sheets out of the chest where they were kept, Tris heard his footsteps behind her. "Look, Tris-"

"You're supposed to call me Six," she said, turning around with an armful of clean cotton sheets. Taking big steps, she plopped the sheets in a heap by the bed and started to strip the old sheets, trying not to think about what happened in them. She normally took pride in her bed-making abilities, but she couldn't care less how she did it now.

He sighed. " _Tris_. Don't do that to me."

She stripped the last sheet, throwing his pillows across the room. "Do what?"

As she moved to pick the sheets up off the floor, Tris heard him move behind her and then his hands were on her waist. She stood up and whirled around, ready to tell him to make his own damn bed because she couldn't deal with it anymore when he leaned down and then his lips were on hers and he was kissing her.

It was even more intense than she remembered-the sheets in her hands fell to the floor between them.

And when he pulled away after a few fiery moments, everything she worked to keep inside came pouring out.

"Why did you do that?" Her voice was breathless and weaker than usual, and her words hung in the air, suspended by the feelings she'd had inside for over a year.

Tobias ran a hand through his hair. "Really, Tris? You know why."

She decided to be stubborn. He used to like that. "No, I actually don't know why. I'm sure you met some beautiful girls on your trip and I'm confused as to why you're acting like you didn't and that you're still acting like you're . . . interested in me."

He stepped closer, and she stepped back. "What gave you the idea that I stopped being interested in you?"

"It's not that you stopped, it's that you never really were. I was naive enough to think that you would be, but I've grown and now I know that's not true," Tris tried to take another step back but tripped on the sheets lying at her feet. Tobias jumped forward to catch her, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her to him. He trapped her in his arms and tipped back to look in her eyes. His were the bluest she had ever seen them; ripe with emotion.

"I am very much interested in you, and there was never another girl. It's always been you, Tris."

"But I . . . I'm your slave!"

His smile fell a bit. "Why are you making excuses for why I can't love you? First you're not pretty and now you're my slave. One isn't true and the other is easily surmountable, Tris," Tobias said, voice gentle. His hand came up to cradle her face and Tris let her eyes close.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Tris really wasn't trying to contradict him-okay, well, she was, at first-but she really wondered how they were going to get around the fact that he was a rich hero of war and she was a penniless servant to his family.

"I'll buy you out," Tobias answered, nuzzling his nose against her cheekbone.

"But your family-they'll never agree."

"I don't care."

"You'll be shamed! Publicly ridiculed!"

"Gods, Tris- _I don't care!_ I would move to Sparta to be with you."

She felt tears prick her eyes and she had no more excuses. "Okay," she said, with a hint of a laugh shadowing her words.

Tobias smiled brightly and kissed her again.


End file.
